


Wild

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Drunkenness, F/F, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21529204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Tilly accidentally makes a pass.
Relationships: Jett Reno/Sylvia Tilly
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Jett’s not a big party person.

It’s not exactly that she doesn’t _get_ parties; it’s more like parties don’t really get _her_. Sure, she shows up. She kind of digs some of the music and kind of hates other songs, which she’ll dryly tell anyone standing too close to her. She gets some of the punch, then waters it down when she realizes it tastes like motor oil. She takes a table in the back, still dressed up in her uniform, because she’s a practical kind of person and that’s just what she woke up in. There are plenty of people dancing between the crowded bulkheads, but Jett’s still in ‘married mode’ so doesn’t participate in that. 

Her earthy, mad-mushroom-scientist counterpart is dancing, off with his boyfriend who’ll probably be his husband soon, and Jett’s not _too_ jaded to admit they’re pretty cute together. Terrible dancers, but pretty cute. She’s into it. Or as into two men as she can be.

Tilly’s dancing by herself like a spastic robot on overload, and that’s _super_ cute: cute enough to melt right through Jett’s maybe-dead heart. Sometimes it’s just nice to enjoy other people having fun, even if she’s living in staunch neutrality. 

Then Tilly spots her looking, smiles wide, and waves over like there’s any chance on Mars Jett will actually get up and join her. Jett smiles politely and drinks her punch-water.

Tilly laughs. Jett can’t hear it over the music, but she can _see_ it. Tilly’s an incredibly lively person. She’s bright, exuberant, pretty, and she meanders over to plop down across from Jett like they’ve been best friends for years. 

Tilly leans forward to call over the music, “You should dance with me!”

Jett can smell the alcohol on her breath. Jett leans back and answers at the exact same volume, “No thanks!”

“C’mon,” Tilly whines, even though she should know by now that whining has no chance against the patented Reno armour. “I wanna dance with you!”

“You want to dance with anything that moves,” Jett surmises, because that’s how drunk Tilly must be. Tilly shakes her head, scattering tight red curls everywhere.

Then she slumps her round shoulders and sighs, “You know... you’re actually kind of hot.”

Jett snorts, “Thanks. I get that all the time.” She doesn’t. It’s a joke. Tilly doesn’t laugh. 

“Like, really _cool_ and stuff... you seem like you know what you’re doing, y’know?”

“Not on the dance floor.”

“Have you ever made out with a girl? I haven’t yet, which is weird, right? I mean, I know I’m probably straight, but _what if_ , y’know? And to not have even tried at _my_ age? Obviously I went to Starfleet for all these amazing new experiences, and I’ve been to so many parties, and I never even kissed a girl! What’s up with that?”

“I dunno,” Jett answers, before answering the initial question with: “Gee, y’know, it never occurred to me to try that.”

Tilly’s obviously too far gone to have any grip on reality, or she’d realize the obvious lie, instead of countering, wide-eyed, “You too? We should kiss!”

Tilly’s so cute. But she’s also so young. To Jett, that makes her more cute like how puppies are cute than how adult women can be, and Jett’s not so into making out with puppies. 

She reaches out to pat Tilly’s arm and promises, “Tell you what, kiddo. If you still want to in the morning, I’ll lay a big one on you.”

“Wow, really?” Tilly actually looks genuinely excited. She shouldn’t, because she probably won’t remember a damn thing in the morning, and if she does, she probably won’t be able to meet Jett’s eyes for a week.

“Sure thing. That’s a promise.”

Tilly giggles delightedly. Then something catches the corner of her eye and she mumbles, “’Scuse me.” She pushes away from the table and flutters off, probably to go contaminate someone else with her contagious happiness. 

Jett is, strangely, smiling.


End file.
